Finding Peace
by LapsusStili
Summary: A quiet interlude at the end of a shift. GSR. Response to Unbound Challenge.


Rating: T (minor suggestive themes)

Spoilers: None

Disclaimers: I found these characters at the bottom of a Cracker Jacks box, so I'm keeping them! (Do they even make Cracker Jacks anymore? God, I'm _so_ old!)

Author's Note: Written in response to the Unbound Challenge from 12 Sep 2005.

**Finding Peace**

_by Lapsus Stili_

"**What _is_ true happiness?"** Grissom asked as he took a seat to the left of the quiet reader on the bench. Dotted with aspens and carpeted with colourful flowerbeds, the small park-like area that the county had put in at the side of the lab was the perfect place for the staff to find a moment of solace.

Sara lowered the book from in front of her face, flipping the cover so they could both read it – _True Happiness: Finding Inner Peace in a Chaotic World_ by John A. Robertson. "I don't know, haven't finished it yet. Of course, I have serious doubts that the answer to that age-old question will be clarified in these 128 pages that I hold in my hands," she replied thoughtfully before returning to the passage she'd been reading.

"Why do I recognize that author's name?" he continued. His furrowed gaze wandered up to the left and he tilted his head to one side. Dropping the book to her lap again, she turned a bit to face him. Sara could tell that he was mentally going through the filing cabinet of his mind, trying to pinpoint the name in his memory banks.

Unlike the usual unruly state of his desk, his internal "paperwork" was always meticulously organized, allowing him to compartmentalize each case and situation so that when needed again in the future, he could essentially pull out the right "file" and have all the associated recollections of it all batched together. This ability had always proved beneficial in regards to his court testimony. As well, it allowed him to easily recount proverbs, quotes, and seemingly random facts at the drop of a dime. The fact that he couldn't track down this author's name right now was really bothering him.

As he struggled internally, a fascinated Sara remained still, observing the slight facial ticks and twitches that accompanied his efforts. After a moment, she took pity on him and put him out of his misery. "A case last year that Warrick and I covered. The guy was found weighted down at the bottom of one of the lakes over in Floyd Lamb State Park."

Grissom squinted his eyes at this but the light still wasn't coming on for him. He raised a brow, encouraging her to fill in the blanks for him.

"Suicide," she shrugged. "We suspected foul play initially, but it turned out it was his own doing. The note his wife eventually found told the whole story – his grief over their little girl's death a few months before coupled with his feelings of guilt over it… he had been driving the car when the accident happened, and he never forgave himself for not being able to get her out before the wreckage exploded."

"My God, that's terrible. I can't imagine that kind of loss," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Why don't I remember any this?"

"You were on that 2-week lecture tour in Canada when it happened. We were reporting to Catherine while you were gone, so she would've signed off on the reports. You wouldn't have seen them unless you went looking for them."

He remembered the jaunt well, as it had been the first time in years that he had seen snow…and since it had been late February, there was plenty of snow in the Maritime regions where he had been. "Oh. I guess I must've seen the name on one of the month-end reports or something," he surmised. "So, why are you reading his book?"

"I saw a copy of it on his desk during the investigation and… I dunno… it just looked interesting," she shrugged again. "Maybe it was because the picture on the front reminded me of Tamales Bay…"

Grissom responded with an understanding nod. He caught her eye briefly, then set his gaze squarely on the pink blossoms of the autumn sage growing across the path from them.

Again she returned her focus to the book and Grissom finally let her. He didn't leave though. The early morning sun was pleasantly warm, but not yet oppressive, and the two relaxed on the wooden bench soaking in the energy.

This time Sara's concentration on her reading was broken by the _lack_ of disturbance. In the silence around them, she was utterly distracted by Grissom's presence – his unique scent and his calm, rhythmic breathing beside her. She couldn't help but imagine lying next to him, curled up in his arms, while he slept soundly wrapped all around her. She allowed herself this peaceful daydream.

Although the words on the page were still staring up at her, there would be no more reading today. Her eyes slipped closed as their dream-bodies awoke in her mind and he placed tender kisses along the slope of her neck. When her ethereal self reached over her shoulder and gently ran her fingers along his beard as he nuzzled her, a trembling sigh slipped from her lips.

Hearing her shaky exhale, Grissom glanced over, expecting to see her deep brown eyes, but saw instead her milky eyelids. "Lose interest in your book already?"

She stayed as she was, and in a low voice she responded, "I don't need it anymore. I think I found what I was looking for." A light breeze blew in and a wisp of her hair floated up, dancing in a shining halo about her. The man beside her took in her splendor as he contemplated her words.

Grissom scooted a little closer to the beauty and sat back. Wordlessly, he reached over and weaved the fingers of his right hand with those of her left, and rested their hands together on his thigh. Sara looked at him then with a small, genuine smile. He returned the gesture before they both turned back to watch the world go by.

Overhead a wren burst into song from its perch. The couple peacefully sat contemplating the vague notion of happiness **as one by one the leaves fell delicately from the tree. **


End file.
